


The Writing Riddle

by marilyn4ever



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gay Panic, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, The Riddler writes nygmob fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marilyn4ever/pseuds/marilyn4ever
Summary: The Riddler takes it upon himself to write his own smutty nygmobblepot fan fiction, to convince Ed of his attractions to men.One man in particular who features heavily in Riddler's writings, hoping to give Edward a much needed epiphany.But Edward isn't convinced that he's anything other than completely, undeniably, straight.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 3
Kudos: 55





	The Writing Riddle

This was the second week in a row that Edward had come into work, only to find what could only be described as the most atrocious writing ever, left prominently on his desk. 

The trashy kind of romance that was often referred to as 'bodice rippers'. The type of novels that Miss Kringle showed a fondness for, hiding them away with the most delightful blush. 

The covers adorned with dashing, handsome men. Open shirts with rippling muscle. Hair artfully tussled just begging for fingers to be run through soft flowing locks. 

This was not the same thing. 

For a start the writing was all 'turgid love muscle' and 'throbbing pole of desire' euphemisms. Edward honestly felt like critiquing the story and leaving it for whomever dared to write such utter filthy dross. 

Unfortunately he couldn't bring himself to do it. As he, Edward Nygma, seemed to have been gifted the main starring role. Along with a certain diminutive criminal, that he only had the pleasure of meeting less than a month ago. 

Oh, add to the fact, that the whole thing was incredibly, undeniably, unequivocally, gay. 

Which was something that Ed, was most assuredly not, at all, in the slightest.

So what, if on occasion he would appreciate the well muscled chest of another man, glistening with sweat. That was totally normal. It was only that he was envious surly, due to his own scrawny physique. 

Not resembling the perfect depiction of a true American Adonis, in any way. It was a perfectly natural thing to do, after all everyone else did it. It didn't mean that he was anything else but totally straight. 

The same thing when he admired another man's eyes, with his own honey brown ones hidden behind the lenses of his spectacles. Such a boring color in his own opinion, nothing remarkable. 

Of course that's why he found the sight of such deep blue-green ones so mesmerizing. The color of a stormy ocean, pulling him in and dragging him down to the depths. 

Shaking himself, feeling a stirring of, whatever it was, something unnamed, it was quickly brushed away. He took the pages in hand and pushed the offending document into the bottom draw of his desk. 

He did not slam it shut overly hard at all. 

Later, while taking a break in between documenting the composite chemicals that had been found underneath the fingernails, of some poor fellow, unfortunate enough to be murdered in the most intriguing ritualistic fashion. 

While simultaneously attempting to analyze a compound, that made people's bones melt, liquefy into literal jelly, which was utterly fascinating when you think about it. 

Which he was as he drummed his long fingers against his desk, waiting for his tea to finish steeping, his eyes fixed themselves on the bottom draw of his desk. 

He didn't want to read more garbage like last time, but the whole thing was quite a puzzle. A puzzle that he was loath to let go unsolved. 

With a put upon sigh he removed it from the draw and started to read. Maybe he could figure out who was leaving such scribblings and just what their intentions were.

The writer had managed to improve, marginally. This time it started mid action. The contents no less racy were much better described. 

The first paragraph alone had heat rising to his cheeks, his tea lay forgotten as his breath sped up. Catching every now and again in his throat as he hungrily devoured each line, each graphic depiction of passion, described in intimate detail. 

He found himself jumping at the beeps from his mass spectrometer. The most explicit description of fellatio now burned into his retinas. Every word committed to memory. 

Attempting to stand he discovered that he had, in point of fact, become somewhat aroused while reading such poorly written trash. 

Mild panic had him quickly sit back down, covering his bulge was clearly the wrong thing to do. Just the pressure of his own hand had him throb painfully within the confines of his slacks. 

With his overly vivid imagination he almost gave in to the urge to relieve some of the built up tension. It didn't make him even a little bit homosexual, fellatio was after all a unisex activity. 

Becoming aroused was a body's natural response to certain stimuli, mental stimulation was far from uncommon.

In point of fact it was documented that most people used mental stimulation, when partaking in self pleasure. The act of masturbation was a natural act, one that Ed had never even dreamt or contemplated doing at work. Ever. Until now. 

Pushing the heel of his hand down firmly on his erection, he willed it to go away. This didn't work in the slightest, not with the images so prominent in his mind, of Mister Penguin swallowing down his own, he would not use the term 'throbbing pole of desire', to describe his own very erect penis. 

Biting down on his tongue until he drew blood, also produced the exact opposite effect of the one he desired. Instead of making him grow soft, the pain inflamed his need for release.

Thumping his head against his desk, he did the unthinkable. Freeing his arousal from his slacks, he took himself in hand with a moan of 'oh crud', and quickly bought himself to completion. 

There was no witnesses to the gasped 'Mister Penguin', as he ejaculated, so for all intents and purposes it didn't happen.

Just like after his shift was finished, he didn't take the badly written smut home with him, to finish reading it. 

He never, not even once, pictured Mister Penguin in a myriad of different states of undress. Doing a vast number of undoubtedly pleasurable things to his body. All in a completely none gay, totally straight way.

Because Edward Nygma was absolutely, unequivocally, without a shadow of a doubt. Not even a tiny bit gay for The Penguin.


End file.
